Female Assassin
by Temeraria
Summary: Saira is a normal girl, but will soon encounter a man and become something unique.


Words tumbled out of my mouth as I walked by every merchant. They seemed quite displeased with my unladylike behavior, after all, what girl runs around threatening boys with sticks? Indeed, I'm quite a disturbance around the market in Jerusalem, but it isn't my bidding when a boy comes up to me and speaks foully of my mother. They don't even know my mother, but nevertheless, they simply find a need to curse her to fiery pits. That's enough to set me off in a frenzy of threats and punches, my mother is a good person, why speak such way of her?

"Saira, come back inside," my mother stood outside our little house looking as displeased as the merchants surrounding me. I always got an earful when she finds out about me chasing boys and screaming curses, it was normal.

I headed towards my house, shooting glares at the boys that taunted me. I already knew what I was going to do to them; I do have a strong punch. "Stop glaring at those rascals and get cleaned, dinner is almost ready," my mother explained in a low voice, disappearing right before I could answer. I did as told, feeling uneasy at my mother's words.

"Saira, you are not a boy. Why can't you sit down and play with dolls… or paint some pottery, do the laundry? You're a 11 year old girl; you're going to wed very soon. Act like a woman!" I scowled and curled away from her words, as if they were sharp knives aiming at my ribcage. I had very little intentions of doing the laundry, much less getting married. In all truth I was beyond prepared for marriage, I can barely cook for myself.

"I have no intentions in painting pottery or playing with dolls, those things are for-" I cough my tongue in time, the word 'girls' almost slipped away from my lips, "-babies."

My mother muttered dark words beneath her breath and served me a bowl of cuscus. I merely glared at the foul dish before shoving the disgusting substance into my mouth, swallowing it before its putrid taste could stay in my mouth. How I hated that thing, but it was one of the only things we could afford. My father, Sayyid, a silk merchant, passed away nine years ago, when I was only four years old. My mother felt the loss, unlike me, who sneaked away from his burial and chased a bird up a tree. Maybe that's the reason she dislikes me so much.

My mother sold pottery for a living, but that wasn't enough for daily expenses, so I took a job at the entrance gates, a stable helper… slave. "I should go back to the stables, mother," I mumbled and stood up putting on my worn out shoes. My mother didn't object at all, it seemed she finally learned the fact that I can take good care of myself.

I swung open the door and noticed it was getting dark; the merchants were already closing their stalls and looking forward for a goodnight's sleep. I, in the other hand, was heading towards Jerusalem's front gates, feeling bored and tired. Chasing kids and giving them a good beating was quite tiring. My feet silently took me to my destination, my mind wondering about things, useless things.

There was no light and I was practically blind, heading towards a place I couldn't even see. I wonder if they'll ever put some lampposts around, or maybe they're just too ignorant about the dangers of a dark street, that would actually explain many things.

Paranoia started to chill my spine as I continued my way towards the stables, it was quite cold and I didn't have anything but this blasted tunic that provided little warmth. I hugged myself and kept walking, slightly tripping sometimes. Finally, I saw two torches up ahead, indicating Jerusalem's gates. I picked up my pace and greeted Adil, who let me pass without another word. He's a good guard, always on duty, it's quite a shame that random guards are getting killed mysteriously; I'll just hope Adil isn't one of them.

"Saira, where were you?" grumbled Afzal, glaring at me with pitch-black eyes.

"There are no lights to guide me, I came here-"

"I have no time for stupid excuses, now, take care of this horse as I take a nap," he threw me a small piece of wood, a number engraved on it. I looked up and noticed he was already sleeping on the haystack. I simply sighed and looked for horse no. 3; business is alarmingly low after daylight, which was better for me.

I walked over to a young mare, her coat dirty and in need of some grooming. I picked up a brush and groomed her until the moonlight's shine was able to reflect of her grey colored coat. The two other horses were fast asleep, unbothered by Afzal's loud snoring. Unlike me, who headed towards to gate sitting down besides Adil, who looked down at me with curiosity.

"Women are not supposed to sit like that," he chuckled and I scowled at him, his comment reminding me of my mother.

"Boys can do whatever they want, why can't girl to the same?" I challenged, gaining the attention of the rest of the guards, who were displeased as any merchant close to my house.

Adil was about to answer me when I hear horseshoes, I stood up with a bolt and ran back to the stable, grabbing a number on the way. My movements were too quick for my mind, as I tripped and got my knees sliced open by the rocks underneath them. Not like I cared. I stood up and, slower than before, approached the rider. My bleeding knees hurt so badly, but I refused to shed tears.

Instead of facing the man with a brave face, I gritted my teeth and muttered foul things. The man cloaked in blue approached me, gently patting my head. "You're quite a clumsy boy," his voice was fairly aged and sympathetic. I tensed under his touch and looked up, my eyes angry.

"I'm not a boy, Sir," I informed him, taking a step away from him. Short hair was unusual with girls, but I refused to let it stay long as it would tie itself and block my view when running. Mother didn't approve my haircut, but she didn't say a word about it, just a few slaps.

The man squinted his eyes and took a good look at me, my knees were still bleeding. "A very pretty girl, indeed," he acknowledged and placed in my hands the beast's reins, a pouch of money, too. "What's your name, little one?" he asked softly, looking at me with those rich kind eyes.

I glanced at Azfal, who was fast asleep. "Saira," I stated but decided to keep my last name a secret. I didn't know this man, after all.

The next question was sillier.

"Do you like it here in Jerusalem with your friends?" he was calm and kind whenever he asked me something, but I felt awkward. Why would a man from another land as me these petty questions?

"No. I don't have friends… they speak foully of my mother," I said, my voice clear with rage.

"Are you afraid of knives?"

"No," I replied, my tongue faster than my mind. It took me half a second to register his question; I stared at him and opened my mouth. It's my turn to ask things around here. But, not only did I hear more horses from afar; the man simply patted my head and walked away. I was about to run after him when a hand stopped me, I glanced around me ready to attack whoever dared touch me.

I saw three men, cloaked in white. Swords strapped to their waists, daggers on their chest. I shoved away the hand of the man who grabbed me and tried to find his eyes that were lost in the shadow of his cloak. "Show some respect, boy!" the man hissed and handed me his steed.

Was my face so boyish? Maybe my body was too small in proportions… why did people keep calling mea **boy**?

"I'm no boy, good Sir," I muttered and limped towards the stable, leading three horses into it. I felt dirt crust over my wounded knees, giving it a good chance of getting infected. Instead of walking back to the three cloaked men, I dipped my knees in the closest bucket of water, shivering at its freezing touch. I gently cleaned the wound and shied away from the pain. I heard a shout from outside, but I ignored them, making sure my wound doesn't get infected.

"Are you there?!" the same man demanded, barging in, the other two behind him. I fixed my tunic and looked up at him, craning my neck. "We're already late, give us the numbers and we'll leave," he said in an irritated tone.

The bucket of water was stained with blood; my knees were wet as my pale hands. I nodded and handed him over the numbers he asked for, my freezing hands gently touching his warm ones.

After that, they left. Leaving me there, standing like a frozen fool.

They had a swords strapped to their waists and knives on their backs and yet, I felt no fear.

**1 year later**

"That's all?" mother demanded placing the coins I've brought home on the table. I nodded, knowing that amount wasn't even able to cover half the debt my father left after his passing. We found out about his debt a week ago and we had a month deadline to repay 20 gold coins. We were poor to the bone and late on our taxes; my mother had become ill thanks to all the stress and we had yet to pay the doctor. Life was becoming bitter everyday and my mother's idea of marrying me had become more frequent. I was 12, an acceptable age for marriage, but my soul didn't want to be chained to a man I knew nothing of.

"I could work extra hours…" I offered her, not telling her that I already worked extra hours at the stables. Afzal still refused to pay me more, but I will have to insist.

"Yes, you do that," she said grimly and returned to her bedroom, leaving behind a frustrated girl. I was sick of working, I had no time to explore and play. Maybe… today I can skip work and make it up tonight. It seemed fair, seeing how I've been working. Mother won't suspect a thing.

I left my house and climbed the closest ladder, heading towards the rooftop. I loved being up there, boys were stupid, they can't climb walls like I do or run as fast as me. I took pride in all those details, making sure I polished them and practiced very hard. My feet had become swifter and my balance was better than before. Running had become a daily activity that I enjoyed deeply.

"Saira, Saira! There are people looking for you!" my mother's hoarse voice rang and I stopped dead on my tracks. People looking for me? This is rather suspicious, but I decided to go back, curiosity getting the best of me.

I looked down and jumped off the roof, swaying a bit from impact but recovering quickly. There was no one there. "In here," I heard my mother grumbled, displeased of my entrance. I turned around and entered my house, mother closing the door behind me. I stood there, stunned. It was that man, the man of a thousand questions. He was here, in my house.

"You!" I raised and accusing finger at him, "you're the man that never stopped questioning me!" In all truth I was still shocked about his appearance, but other than that, I was genuinely curious. "What are you doing here anyway?" I piped up, my voice no longer accusing. Mother simply shot me a disapproving look, but I brushed it away.

"I'm here to take you to Masyaf," oh, that's one funny joke.

"Should I laugh now?" I mused, my lips twitching into an unpleasant smile. My eyes couldn't help but glance at the white cloaked man standing in the shadows. A sword strapped to his waist and knives on his back.

"This is serious, Saira, they'll take care of all out debt if you go with them," Mother stated, her voice flat and normal. I was no fool; I knew what she was saying. I frowned and clenched my jaw.

"I was sold?" I glared at the old man, feeling angry.

My mother was quite, the old man smiled and nodded. Oh, so this is normal then? This isn't a joke? I desired to voice my questions but turned around and swung the door open, looked behind me and said:

"Fine! You may take me away, only if you catch me before sundown!"

I started to run.

- - - - - - - - -

A/N: _Hello reader! Do not fret, Altair will be introduced pretty soon. Very well, I have nothing else to say._

_Care to review?_


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